"Oh, the prayers, and some of the old hymns----"
"No, it isn"t prayers exactly--except to their G.o.ds. There are so many G.o.ds. Jove was the great one."
"Oh, my child, this is heresy. There is but one G.o.d and the Holy Virgin, and the saints to whom you can make invocation."
"Well, then I think you have a number of G.o.ds. Do you pray to them all?
And what do you pray for?"
"For the wicked world to be converted to G.o.d, for them to love Him, and serve Him."
"And how do they serve Him?" inquired the child. "If He is the great G.o.d Father Jamay teaches He can do everything, have everything. It is all His. Then why does He not keep people well, so they can work, and not blight the crops with fierce storms. Sometimes great fields of maize are swept down. And the little children die; the Indians kill each other, and at times the white men who serve them."
"Oh, child, you do not understand. There must be convents in this new world for the training of girls. They must be taught to pray that G.o.d"s will may be done, not their own."
"How would I know it was G.o.d"s will?" asked the irreverent child, decisively, yet with a certain sweetness.
"The good Father would tell you."
"How would he know?"
"He lives a holy life in communion with G.o.d."
"What is the convent like?" suddenly changing her thoughts.
"It is a large house full of little ones, the sisters" cells, the novices" cells----"
"There are some at the post. They put criminals in them. They are filthy and dark," with a kind of protesting vehemence.
"These are clean, because they are whitewashed, and you scrub the floor twice a week. There is a little pallet on which you sleep, a _prie-dieu_----"
"What is that?" interrupted the child.
"A little altar, with a stone step on which you kneel. And a crucifix at the top, a book of prayer and invocation. Many of the sisters pray an hour at midnight. All pray an hour in the morning, then breakfast and the chapel for another hour, with prayers and singing. After that the cla.s.ses. The little girls are taught the catechism and manners, if they are to go out in the world, sewing and embroidery. At noon prayers again and a little lunch, then work out of doors for an hour, and running about for exercise, catechising again, singing, supper and a chapel hour, and then to bed. But the nuns spend the evening in prayer, so do the devout."
"Madame, I shall never go in a convent, if the Fathers build one for girls. I like the big out-of-doors. And if G.o.d made the world He made it for some purpose, that people should go out and enjoy it. I like the wilderness, the great blue sky, the sun and the stars at night, the trees and the river, and the birds and the deer and the beautiful wild geese, as they sail in great flocks. If I was shut up in a cell I should beat my head against the stones until it was a jelly, and then I should be dead."
Madame de Champlain looked at the child in amaze. In her decorous life she had known nothing like it.
"And I wish there were no women. I do not like women any more. Men are better because they live out of doors and do not pray so much. Except the priests. And they are dirty."
Then she turned away and went out on the gallery, with a curiously swelling heart. Oh, why was not Marie Gaudrion different? What made people so unlike. If there was some one----
"Ha, little maid, where are you running to so fast?" exclaimed a laughing voice. "Have you seen my sister yet?"
Eustache Boulle caught her arm, but she shook him off, and stood up squarely, facing him. What vigor and resolution there was in her small bewitching face.
"Hi, hi! thou art a plucky little _fille_, ready for a quarrel by the looks of thy flashing eyes. What have I done to thee, that thou shouldst shake me off as a viper?"
"Nothing! I am not to be handled roughly. I am going my way, and I think it will not interfere with thine."
A pleasant smile crossed his face which made him really attractive, and half disarmed her fierceness.
"My way is set in no special lines until I return to Tadoussac. Hast thou seen my sister?"
She nodded.
"Every one loves her. She is as good as she is beautiful. And she will charm thee," in a triumphant tone, gathering that the interview had not already done this.
"I am not to be charmed in that fashion. Yes, she is beautiful, but she would like me to be put in a convent. And I would throw myself in the river first."
"There are no convents, little one. And but few people to put into them.
In a new country it is best that they marry and have families. When there are too many women then convents play a useful part."
"Let me pa.s.s," she cried disdainfully, but not trying to push aside.
"Tell me where you go!"
"To Mere Gaudrion"s to see that soft-headed Marie. I wish she had some ideas, but she is good and cheerful, and does as she is told."
"You are not very complimentary to your friend."
"But if I said she had a bad temper, and told what was not true, and slapped her little brothers and sisters, that would be a falsehood. And if I said she understood the song of the birds and the sough of the wind among the trees, and the running, tumbling little streams that are always saying "oh! let me get to the gulf as soon as possible, for I want to see what a great ocean is like," it would not be true either. I like Marie," calmly.
"Thou art a curious little casuist. I am glad you like her. It shows that you are human. There are strange creatures in the woods and wilds of this new world."
"There is the Loup Garou, but I have not seen him. He gets changed from a man to a fierce dog, and if you kill the dog, the man dies. There is the Windigo, and the old medicine woman can call strange things out of a sick person who has been bewitched, and then he gets well. But M.
Destournier laughs at these stories."
The young man had been backing slowly toward the steps and she had followed without taking note.
Now he said--"Let me help you down."
"I am not lame, M"sieu, neither am I blind."
"Will you take me to see Marie Gaudrion?"
"You would laugh at her, I see it in your eyes."
"Are my eyes such telltales?"
He had not the placid fairness of his sister, and his chestnut hair curled about his temples. His cheeks were red enough for a girl.
"Why should you want to see her?"
"I want to see all there is in Quebec. I want to know how the colony progresses. I may put it in a book."
"Like the Governor. But you could not make maps out of people," with an air of triumph.